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by Lexzandrihya



Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Booker | Sebastien le Livre Needs Therapy, Booker | Sebastien le Livre Needs a Hug, Depressed Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Multi, Sad Booker | Sebastien le Livre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27510715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexzandrihya/pseuds/Lexzandrihya
Summary: The capture of the team was not supposed to occur. It was only supposed to be him. Sudan was supposed to be a real mission, not a hoax. That was when he knew that something was off. But he was scared, terrified that if they found out how desperate he was to die, they would think him weak. He would lose their regard and that was something that he never wanted.He did not know what they thought of him now, but he was sure that he had lost their respect.He had no alternative now. No way out. No ally. No friend. No family. What he did have were his feelings. His emotions. His love.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolo di Genova
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83





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**Author's Note:**

> This work is loosely based on this prompt: 
> 
> Booker has had a secret crush on Joe and Nicky for decades and is mad jealous of what they have together.
> 
> During his exile, he keeps his distance but he also still keeps his eye on the boys—when one or both of them gets in trouble, he steps in to save them, even though he’s afraid that they’ll extend his punishment when it comes out that he’s been keeping tabs on them. Instead, they finally realise how much Booker cares about them and take proper care of him

The capture of the team was not supposed to occur. It was only supposed to be him. Sudan was supposed to be a real mission, not a hoax. That was when he knew that something was off. But he was scared, terrified that if they found out how desperate he was to die, they would think him weak. He would lose their regard and that was something that he never wanted. 

He did not know what they thought of him now, but he was sure that he had lost their respect. 

He had no alternative now. No way out. No ally. No friend. No family. What he did have were his feelings. His emotions. His love. 

Sebastien sat in this dingy, barren apartment and held his head in his hands. Eyes closed, but tears flowed down his face nonetheless. He had just seen them. They had come to take Quynh back. He was exiled, he was to have no contact with any of them and that included Quyuh. 

When she found him, he was a drunk mess. She pulled him out of his spiral and got him to talk. He shed his mask and wall around her and told her of the love that he held. The love that he held for Yusuf and Nicolo. 

He had never told anyone that secret before. Quynh was understanding. She encouraged him to speak to her. She never revealed to him what she had seen through his eyes. Never told him of the love she had seen in Joe and Nicky’s eyes, for that was something he would have to hear from them. Instead, she told him that she would always be there for him. 

Liar.

She left the moment Nile’s dreams guided the others to them.

Yusuf and Nicolo spared him no words. Their eyes betrayed the anger they still held. 

Andy held him in a loose embrace, while Nile hugged him tightly and told him to have faith.

Andy, Nile, Joe, Nicky and Quynh went their separate ways. 

The women went to Greece, the closest place to home that Andy had. Quynh and Nile joined her. There, Quynh tried to acclimatise to life in the twenty-first century. 

Joe and Nicky went to Malta. The last six months had been traumatising for them. They had almost lost each other and had banished man they loved.

They knew that Sebastien liked women and men, but he had never shown any interest in them. Their subtle flirting was mostly ignored, so they stopped. 

\--------------

After the others took Quynh and left, Booker drank himself into oblivion. Bottles of alcohol disappeared down his throat. He died of alcohol poisoning at least thrice before he got himself together. 

Three months after Quynh left, he pulled himself out of the bottle and dumped the remaining alcohol down the sink. That action gave him some sort of sick pleasure.

On a whim, he tracked Nicky and Joe down to Malta, booked a flight and went there. He kept his distance from the two men, opting to keep them safe by staying in the shadows. 

He got to see them. Truly observe them. Their happiness. Their happiness which they never rubbed in his or Andy’s faces. Never flaunted it to make them jealous, but just the fact that they had each other was enough for envy to arise and blossom in his chest. He wanted that with them. At this point, he wanted that with anyone.

He wanted someone to hold him in the night. To caress his face. Someone who would tell him that they loved him. That they needed him. He had no relationship that defined him. He was no one to the immortals. 

\----------

It was three in the morning when it occurred. Joe and Nicky were fast asleep and Booker was making a random check around their house. A grenade was thrown in through a window, breaking it in the process. That sound woke the two men from their slumber. They rushed down the stairs just in time to witness Sebastien jump onto the grenade and be blown into smithereens. Frozen with shock, the two lovers could only watch as armed men marched into their home and attempt to capture them.

Jumping to action they quickly dispatched the men and piled their bodies in the secluded backyard before returning to the living room where Sebastien still laid in pieces. 

He was healing. Slowly. But healing. Big wounds always took a lengthier time to mend.

Sitting on the bloodied floor, Joe took Booker's half-healed head into his lap and ran one hand through his hair. The other was clasped in Nicky's, who's free hand was caressing Sebastien's face.

He had jumped onto a grenade for them. An action that cost him his life. It didn’t matter that he would come back, what mattered was that he was ready to sacrifice his life, knowing full well that he may never wake.  
Thinking back, the two men realised that this action was not a one-off. Jumping in front of one of them was not a rare occurrence for Sebastien, he did it at least once each mission. His suicidal tendencies should have been obvious. Even the most selfless man would think twice before jumping in front of someone, a suicidal man, however, would not.

It took nearly half an hour more for him to heal fully and an additional fifteen minutes for him to wake. 

Disoriented as he was, Sebastien did not realise that he was in Yusuf's lap. Panicking, the younger man struggled against the unfamiliar sensation of being held. It took a few moments for him to be able to hear the calming melody that Nicolo was humming and to feel the gentle hand in his hair. 

He had done it now. They would extend his sentence and he would be more alone than he already was. His eyes filled with tears which flowed rapidly. He tried to roll off Yusuf’s lap but was held fast. 

He cried for what seemed to be hours. Pain engulfing him. He wanted his all the time, wanted to be held like a person that could be loved and was deserving of it. 

Nothing the older men said could get through to him. It seemed as though Sebastien did not even hear them. 

Finally, his tears stopped; not because he was calm, but because his body could produce no more tears. 

The soft lullaby that Nicolo was humming eventually calmed him enough that sleep overtook his exhausted body. 

“Sleep, mi amore, we will be here when you wake,” Nicky promised. 

They lifted Sebastien to their bed and curled around him. 

\-----------

Lips on his. Hands in his hair and caressing his face. A heavy but not uncomfortable weight on his hips. 

Sebastien sighed contently. It was not every day that he dreamt of being held. Most nights, nightmares of his crimes kept him awake, but today, now, he would savour this dream for as long as he could.

A lullaby, familiar and tear evoking. Nicolo’s angelic voice enchanting him. The familiar tune of ‘I just called to say I love you.’

He wished this dream could be a reality. He wished to have their love, but he knew that he had no place with them.

It took a few minutes, but he realised that this was not a dream. This was real. 

Jerking himself up, he stared that the two men with wide eyes for a split second before curling onto himself, trying to make his body as small as humanly possible.

Nicolo and Yusuf's hearts broke at the fear in Sebastien's eyes. And those pieces shattered further when he folded himself in half, as though he was protecting his heart. 

"Sebastien? You okay?" 

Wide green eyes, filled with uncertainty stared at Yusuf. 

Slowly, the Frenchman nodded. 

"Freshen up and then come down for breakfast. Okay?"

The man nodded a second time, confusion laced in his eyes, on his face and in his slow movements. 

Yusuf started on breakfast while Nicolo laid out clothes for Sebastien before burning the bodies of the men who had attacked them the previous night. Sebastien worked as fast as he could. He had no idea what was going on. Tears came to his eyes faster than he could blink them away. 

He stood with his hands on the sink and head bowed as he tried to stem his tears. He couldn’t. 

When Sebastien hadn’t emerged from the washroom after nearly thirty minutes, worry started to seep into the older men’s minds. It shouldn't have taken him that long to freshen up.

They knocked on the door but to no avail. The sturdiness of the door prevented them from being able to hear if there was water running in the shower. Exchanging anxious looks, Yusuf and Nicolo simultaneously decided that the best course of action would be to break down the door. 

Using their brute strength the men shoved their shoulders against the door and broke it down. But all the strength in the world could not have prepared them for the sight that awaited them. 

Clawing at and breaking his skin, bloodshot eyes, and more tears flowing out, Sebastien sat on the marble floor curled into a small ball, in a pool of blood. He was shaking. Violently.

Yusuf stepped forward and tried to touch him, but the younger man just flinched and jolted back. 

Nicolo sat close beside him. The warmth of another body, so much in contrast to the cool marble and the phantom cold that he felt constantly, made him feel so, so much better. Sebastien began to lean in towards the warmth. His mind hadn’t yet processed another human near him. He had no clue. All he knew what that he needed the warmth; that without it, he would freeze and he would die. Painfully. 

He forgot the warmth that a human touch could bring. He craved the warmth that a human touch could bring. He craved something that he had forgotten the meaning of.

Slowly, Nicolo moved toward the younger man and gently laid a hand on his back, moving it up and down. He did not fail to notice how, ever so slightly, Sebastien leaned into it. How after a moment he melted into the Italian’s touch. 

He still hadn’t realised that there were two men beside him. Well, his mind hadn’t, his body, however, was reacting to the human touch of which he had been starved since his wife died and his sons had realised that his curse was not one he could share. 

Yusuf gently placed his hand in Sebastien’s hair. After pausing for a few moments, he began to run his hand through the unkempt sandy hair that he had always loved best about the Frenchman. Minutes passed and Sebastien slowly became aware as to the other men’s presence. The realisation came slowly and thus he was able to control his reaction. He did not flinch or move, even. He was afraid that if he did, he would lose the touch that he had coveted for so long. He knew that he would lose it sooner or later, but just at that moment, he was content to lose it later. 

“Why are you doing this?” He asked when he was ready. 

“Because we love you.” Came the reply in Italian tainted French. 

Emerald eyes, filled with unshed tears met blue eyes filled with unyielding love. 

Taking Sebastien’s hand in his, Yusuf whispered in his ear. “I love you, Bastien. You are one half of my heart, and Nico is the other half. I have survived with only half of my heart for too long, I cannot live without my second half any longer.”

“I don't understand. You love each other.”

“Yes we do, but that does not make our love for you any weaker or any less genuine.”

He lost control then and there. Trembling uncontrollably, loud, wracking, ugly sobs escaping him as longed to believe the words that he had desired to hear for seventeen decades.

This was him at his worst and if they loved him then, then they’d love him through anything. 

The older immortals did not disappoint him. They held him close till his tears quelled and his shaking stopped. And they held him still. 

A warm feeling spread in his chest. He felt undeserving of it, but it felt good. It felt like the taste of his mother’s Coq au Vin. It felt like the embrace of his wife and sons. It felt like home.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it.  
> Please let me know how I can improve my writing.  
> Comments and Kudos are not only appreciated but loved!!!


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